Hiding from the Past
by thelogicalpenny
Summary: Royai. Roy struggles with the emotional trauma of losing Riza. Written for Royai week prompt "Scars". Started out for the prompt "firsts" but I decided it fit better for scars. Not all scars are visible and Roy suffers most from the ones you can't see on the outside. Italicized words at the end come from "I'm Already There" by Lonestar. I do not own FMA.


Slowly, Mustang made his way around the house. Picking up a thing or two here and there, finding his hat, buttoning his coat. Anything to delay leaving. He hated leaving the house these days. Each time he did all he wanted to do was return. It was simply too hard to find enjoyment in anything on the outside. He'd had his time, time to stand in the spotlight, time to stand at the top. Now he was older and stood at the sidelines offering his two cents when asked. He did as little to get by as he could. Since that day, he'd slowly withdrawn from the outside world. Retiring in all but final paperwork, decreasing his visits to see his children and grandchildren, rather they came to him in an attempt to keep him going. But for Roy, it was simply too hard. Without her, it was too much effort, hurt too much. Ever since that day, he'd shut himself off. And nothing anyone had said had been able to pull him back to the land of the living.

Roy walked out the front door and slowly ambled up the sidewalk, his cane lightly rapping the sidewalk. Click, click. Boots walking alongside him, slightly behind him. He turned and looked, no one was there.

He picked up his cane and put the rounded top over the hinge of his elbow so the end couldn't rasp against the ground any longer. He didn't need it he told himself. He could walk on his own. He only carried it out of habit, after his knee had started going. But he was fine. Fine.

He never said anything otherwise. If anyone asked he was fine. If they asked if he wanted to work on a project he was fine. He didn't need to be involved. He trusted his subordinates to do it right. He'd explained away his lack of involvement as his old age, his staying indoors as simply taking time to read books he hadn't had time for when he was actively involved.

Neither was untruthful. He'd been handing more responsibility to those around him for quite a while, trying to test the suitability of the younger men to be his successor, and he had read a few new books. He hadn't wanted to open the old ones.

A light breeze tickled Mustang's cheekbones; he could smell the crispness in the air. Was summer coming to an end already? It had passed so quickly. But so slowly as well. He hadn't gone to the lake with his family, nor taken any picnics. He'd skipped the summer concerts and had allowed another to supervise the tours of the summer training camps.

"Hello Roy," Alice greeted him as he walked into her shop. "How are you today?"

"Fine. I just need some milk." He answered quietly. There were plenty of people around the estate he could easily have sent for milk, but he'd let many of them go recently as he slowly transferred himself out of the Fuhrer's office. He'd increased his privacy that way and he still preferred to do minor things himself, it reassured those around him that he wasn't completely gone. He bought the bottle of milk and the newspaper that he always bought but never read up to the counter and handed Alice the exact change.

She placed the milk in a bag and handed it to him with a smile. "Here you go. See you next week?" It was half question half fact, most every week he made it here. Alice had taken it upon herself to check in on the old man, just as her mother had kept an eye on him when he was younger for her friend Madame Christmas. Going to the store was about all he did Alice knew. So she took care to observe him discretely, occasionally give him samples of her deserts when he looked especially down, or try to engage him in conversation, either about his family or things she had done, anything to stop him leaving too soon. Sometimes he stayed, but most of the time he left. She could tell today was one of those days and she simply smiled as genuinely as she could manage, despite her worry for the man.

He nodded at her with a small return smile that barely turned the corners of his lips. Alice watched him amble across the store, his back slightly bent and shoulders drooping from many years of holding his head high. Just as he was about to leave Alice remembered the surprise she had planned for him. She stooped behind the counter to grab the package, calling his name to wait. She scurried across the shop to where he stood. "I almost forgot, here you can have these, on the house," she handed him a small bouquet of small flowers with white petals that turned to yellow in the middle. "These frangipanis just came in. They're such a pretty flower but everyone else seems to overlook them for the larger blooms. Except for Ms. Riza. She used to come in and buy them from me, and mamma before." Alice hoped the flowers might cheer him up, if nothing else they might bring color to his large empty estate.

Roy's throat tightened and he forced out a thank you and he quickly hurried out of the shop haphazardly putting the flowers in his bag where he couldn't see them. Fragnipanis. Yes he remembered those. Riza's favorite. She'd loved their small delicate petals. How even though they were fragile looking, they were sturdier than most others. How the petals curled one around the other, supporting each other, and no one petal was above the others. How the flower would grow in high or low sunlight, so long as the right amount of water was provided. Her bouquet had been made of plumerias at their wedding. She'd incorporated the old Xingese tradition of the flower into the ceremony as well. If a woman sought a relationship, the flower was worn over her right ear, left if she was taken. When the officiate had pronounced them husband and wife, and they kissed, Roy had taken the flower from over her right ear, and placed it over her left. She'd looked so beautiful that day….

He felt a weight in his heart, the grief coming back. No. Not now. Not where others could see him. He shoved the thoughts of her to the depths of his mind and focused on getting back home. Right foot, left foot, one, two, three. He forced his mind to concentrate on menial things rather than let thoughts of her come flooding back. Click click. The cane. He'd let it drop back to its normal position.

The estate. He was back. Mustang hurriedly opened the door and let himself in. "I'm back from Alice's," he called before he remembered there was no one here to tell.

He shrugged off his coat and put it in the closet; his eyes sweeping over his neatly pressed dress uniform on its hanger waiting for him should he choose to don it like he had on the day of his coronation. She'd stood to his left with her gun hand on the side closet to him as always, ready to protect him, ready to join him at his side. She'd been so proud, so happy that his goal had been accomplished. The goal they had worked side by side for so many years to achieve, each putting in as much effort as the other.

Mustang dropped the bag with the milk and flowers in the icebox letting the door shut out their sight with a smack, bouncing slightly back into place. She would scold him for being careless.

He left the kitchen and walked to the wide open window in the living room. He brought his fist up and thumped it on the glass. Why. Why was it no matter where he went today he couldn't escape those thoughts? Those memories he hid from every day because they hurt too much to let them in. This was why he didn't leave the house. This was why he'd passed on control. Everywhere he looked he saw traces of her. In the young dutiful soldier at command. In the click of his cane. Women doing shopping in the market. Couples sitting outside of cafés. Children and parents playing in the park. He read new books because they weren't ones they had read together, ones they'd discussed at length in the evening. Half the time he slept in the guest room because the simple smell of her in her pillow would bring him to tears. She was everywhere. In the wind, in the sun. It didn't matter how hard he tried to run, she was there. Scolding him for being a coward. For letting his life slide. For not moving forward. He knew she wouldn't have wanted this for him. But he didn't know what else to do.

Mustang uncurled his clenched fingers slowly, letting the tips gently rest on the glass. He looked out at the hill behind the estate. The hill that hid the field. Maybe, maybe he should go. Everyone else had long gone to visit. At least once. His children, their few friends who were still around, coworkers, not so little Elicia and her family, the Elrics. He was the only one who still shied away.

Mustang slowly turned his grey head to face the icebox that concealed the flowers before he slowly made his way over and opened the box, removing the flowers. He'd bent a few petals in his haste, but he hadn't damaged them too badly. He put on his jacket and picked up his cane from where he'd dropped it and walked out the door for the second time that day. This time he took a left when he reached the gate and walked towards the edge of town. His feet knew the way. They'd come this way many times to visit his old friends in their resting places. It was only hers that he hadn't been able to see.

He looked up at the iron gate that marked the entry to the cemetery. His hand shook, but he forced himself to walk through the gate. He wouldn't let himself hide any longer.

He walked past the rows and rows of tombstones. The row where Hughes had been buried all those years ago, and Gracia had joined him just a few ago. The row with Falman, the one with Olivier Armstrong, the one with Grumman. And then the one he'd avoided.

He looked down at the grey stone that marked her final resting place.

Riza Hawkeye Mustang

Birth, death, wife, mother, soldier. The stone tried to sum up the person buried there but it didn't even come close to describing the woman he'd loved. "Hello Riza," he said. "It's been awhile, longer than I care to think about."

He knelt next to the stone and carefully arranged the plumerias. "I spose I should tell you about what's I've done since you died but there isn't much to tell. The kids and grandkids keeping growing, they are getting on so well. But you already know that. They told me they'd come to see you. I'm still Fuhrer, not that I do much anymore. Generals Ranor and Thurman have been doing most of the work. I'm just waiting to see who gets the nerve to ask about my eminent retirement first." He chuckled slightly, his plans to determine his successor had been in place for a long time and both men should have easily been able to tell what he was up to, he'd dropped enough hints. But he still was waiting for them to call his bluff. "I expect any day now the paperwork will go through and I will officially retire."

"…"

"I miss you Riza. There's no way else to say it. I go through the motions but," his voice chocked and the tears started to well in his eyes, "not matter what I do or where I go you're still gone and I can't change that. No alchemy no miracle can bring you back to me. I just have to wait. I cling to what I have because I know you wouldn't want me to let go, but there is a part of me that just wants to be back at your side, where I belong," he blinked, causing the water welling in his eyes to stream down his face. "I'm one of the last left which I'm sure surprises you. You were the one who kept me safe all those years. You always joked I would kill myself by burning down the kitchen by forgetting the stove or something."

The breeze swished past his shoulders gently, ruffling the fabric of his jacket. The sun moved out from a cloud and the warmth of its rays hit his back, it almost felt like a hand was resting on his shoulder trying to comfort his sorrow. It felt like her. Her breath on his ear, her body pressed against his, holding her close. He let the dirt he'd clenched in his fist slowly trickle out.

"I love you Riza," he said, each word slipping off his tongue, full of the grief and sorrow and memories he'd carried around locked up in side for so many months. "I love you, and I won't ever forget, even if you aren't here with me."

"_But I am. I'm already there. Take a look around. I'm the sunshine in your hair. I'm the shadow on the ground. I'm your imaginary friend. Oh Roy. I'm already there._ _I'm the beat in your heart. I'm the moonlight shining down. I'm the whisper in the wind. And I'll be there until the end. Can you feel the love that we share? Because I'm already there."_

Roy got up from the ground. He brushed the dirt off of his clothes. His hand gently brushed the top of the tombstone. Before he took the cane off the crook of this arm and started walking back towards central, his cane gently clicking the ground beside him.


End file.
